There are Regrets, and Then There are Relatives
by Catpiss-Neverclean15
Summary: Everything seems fine in the Duncan household. Clare and Harry are happily married with 3 children of their own-the twins, Vince and Bobby, and thirteen year old, Rosaline. Or is that really who she is? As she begins to figure out who her parents are and where she came from, Rose encounters Sam and Dean working on a case in Tennesee. Are they able to help her though?
1. Pilot TwoPointOh

_Hey guys! Welcome to my first lick of fanfiction that I've written (well I tried once, but I killed it with fire)! Hope you enjoy it!_

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Ya know, life can be easy for some people. Gliding through it all, moseying down easy street with your parents to help you through. And there's the other side to life. That's about where I am at the moment.

My mom, Clare, was never really the person who worried about me. Her and my dad, Harry, where always thinking they had a _perfect_ little family with me as their _perfect_ little daughter, and Ben and Joey as their _perfect_ little sons. The twins of course were their boys, what with their hair like Clare's and faces like Harry's, but me? My hair's light brown and my eyes are hazel. Clare's a blonde with blue eyes and Harry's got black hair and green eyes. What I'm trying to explain to you is that I'm adopted. They don't know that I know though and I love when they go on about their "daughter" and how much they love me. That part I barely believe, but you know what? They forgot about me the day they came home from the doctors and realized Clare was pregnant for real. That was 5 years ago. I was born 5 years ago. But I'm 13 years old _now_.

I look around the room to see if anyone's awake. Clare and Harry went to bed hours ago, so I don't have to worry about them, but what I'm most worried about are the twins. Since they're 6 now, they sleep in "big boy" beds, so that means they jump out of the every now and again. It's so irritating when I'm awake in my room and 6 year olds end up in there. I check down the hall to see if their door's open-thankfully it's locked-and I sneak into Harry's office.

It looks enormous with the bookshelves lining the walls, but other than that, all there is is the desk, some chairs, lamps, and other stupid stuff to make him look smart. I creep to the desk and begin to open drawers, looking for any kind of files. Soon enough, I find a drawer _full_ of important shit. I thumb through them, most of the files are his work things, but soon enough I find a file that says "Legal" on the tab and throw it on the desk.

First there's something that looks like a contract and I read down it, seeing their lawyer named Ken written on it. I keep going through it until I see my adoption papers, and stuff them into my book bag. I reach into my pocket and grab my birth certificate that I managed to steal from a sealed envelope when I was only 7. My adopted parents have never seen it. It was mailed to them twice, and I have the only two copies out there. They think the hospital I was born at in Kentucky misplaced it. I only stole them because it's the one thing I have to let me know who I _really_ am. I stare at it for a minute, mesmerizing my own name, my real mom's name, and the initials of my real father's name. I've never heard my real name before, but soon enough, I will. I know I will. I stuff it in next to the other copy and papers.

I pull my book bag back onto my back as I look around the house; the house I've always felt I've never belonged it. Like I was the _intruder_. I purse my lips in disgust, but smile instead. I'll never suffer again in this hellhole. I'll be with my real family, and leave them to live the perfect life they thought they had all along. I have all of the papers that were ever filled out about me, even my report cards. I even snuck into Principal Nurland's office Thursday and snagged my school record when he was yelling at some bastard 7th grader for having firecrackers. I have everything. It'll be as if I never existed in the first place. I smiled once more, punching the security code in the system, and walk out the front door.


	2. Whose Your Daddy?

Hey, guys! This one was a hard one to right but it will leave you SCREAMING at me to post chapter 3!

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"Thanks," I say, putting money into the coin slot as I get off of the smelly bus. The equally smelly bus driver stares at me as I get off and shuts the doors too slowly for my liking, so I decide to speed walk down the street. I pull out the map of my birth town and find the street I'm street I'm on. It's only 5 blocks from the hospital I was born at-I circle it-and I find a small diner not far from where I am. Considering Harry's a big-time doctor, missing a $150 dollars isn't that big a deal. I mean, he's the idiot who leaves money in the office where I spend my nights studying myself, so why not grab some cash? I begin walking to the diner and I'm there in no time. I reach the door and catch a whiff of the place. Yup. Smells just like the bus. Does _everything_ smell like dog shit here? A man holds the door open for me, and when I look up at him to say thank you, I _see_ him.

No, I'm obviously not blind since I figured out how to get here, but ever since I hit 10 last March, I've been seeing weird things lately. People with wrinkly gray skin, thinning white hair, beady black eyes-and I mean _completely_ black. I know I should be scared, but I feel like I'm _supposed_ to be able to see them. It's weird, but hey. Being born in 2008 and already having the body of a thirteen year old isn't exactly normal either, am I right?

I sit down in a booth and the smell of hamburgers makes my mouth water. A plump woman approaches me with a warm smile on her face and pulls a pen from the crook of her ear. "Afternoon," she greets. "What can I get for ya, hun?"

"Can I have a cheeseburger, well done, fries on the side, please? Oh, and a Sprite?"

"Sure thing. Be ready soon." She smiles at me and walks away. I pull off my jacket and get comfortable, looking around the joint. But the most interesting thing in the place is the conversation behind me.

I didn't realize the men where there until I heard the one sitting 2 inches behind my head laughed heartily. They seemed to be having a good time, not realizing a teenager was listening to _every single word_-well, not till now anyways. "Dude," the one sitting further from me began. "You're confusing reality with porn again." The one s-okay, let's call him "Dude". Dude laughs again, slamming what sounds like a shot glass onto the table.

"Will you quit saying that? Oh well, I don't care anymore. So another crazy, huh?"

"Kind of. A woman named Gretchen Bilcrad reported to the police that she heard a ghost walking around her house. They got there, she was curled on her couch, hair looking like she got electrocuted. She in a psychiatric hospital right now."

"You guys are eating without me? That's the last time I try to be nice to you guys. Whatcha eating?" A voice that I didn't hear before joins the conversation, but I don't turn to see where it came from.

"Anyway, this doesn't sound too serious. Her mother and grandmother were both schizophrenics and ended up in the same place, so we get the night off, for now." The guy who talked about the crazy lady spoke again, ignore New Guy.

"Then drinks all around!" Dude leaned back and his head knocked right into mine. I yelped and leaned forward, holding my head. "Ah shit." He gets up and walks toward me, putting his hand over the one covering my head. I feel the throb of pain hitting my head, and I groan.

"Nice goin', Dean." Crazy-Lady Guy calls to him from their table.

"Shut up. Hey kid, you alright?" He questions and I nod, sitting up to look at him. Before I can tell him I'm okay, I see his face.

And it's not the wrinkly grey.

It's him.

He must've noticed my face fell when I saw him and he gave me the same look, but I bet my 150 bucks that he wasn't thinking 'HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, _HOLY SHIT_.' I can't get my tongue out the knots it's formed into, so all I do is stare at him. He breaks it though and looks back to his friends. Crazy-Lady Guy and New Guy just stare it, and I see Crazy-Lady shrug out of the corner of my eye. "Maybe she needs help." New Guy calls out to Dude-I mean, _Dean_, and he looks back at me, his hazel eyes full of confusion. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, so I pull on my coat and backpack, and stand up.

He steps out of the way, standing at least a foot above me, and I turn to look for the waitress, but he grabs my shoulder and spins me to look at him. "Hey, hey," he starts, still looking confused. "Where's the fire? What's wrong? Did I knock her in the head that hard?" He turns to his friends again, who I now get a good look at and realize they're three of hottest guys I've ever seen. I gag unintentionally and they notice, Crazy-Lady runs to me and grabs my shoulders.

They pull me out into the parking lot and you know what? The gag wasn't unintentional. New Guy holds my hair while the other two pace around and watch me throw my guts up. I don't know what it is though. Why I'm throwing up? I didn't even get to eat my burger…. That little thought makes my breakfast reappear and Crazy-Lady groans. I had to be the fact that I saw him, in person, for the first time ever and my stomach flipped. I've been looking at pictures, and files, and waiting to meet him. Now he's watching me puke. At least I stopped. New Guy hands me a water bottle and I chug it, staring at the cement under me. "You okay," Dean asks me, walking with Crazy-Lady who cares another bottle of water.

"Yeah, I-I'm good now." And my beautiful tongue manages to learn to speak words again, hallelujah. Crazy-Lady (I _really_ wish I knew their names, this is getting annoying…) pulls me up off the ground and then I see he has a whole 2 feet on me. Jesus, are they just walking _buildings_, what the hell? At least New Guy is shorter than them. I look Dean up and down. He looks up at Crazy-Lady and back at me. "Listen, we're not going to hurt you. I'm Dean, this is my brother, Sam, and that's Cas." I turn to look at Cas and he waves like a little kid at me. I turn back to the brothers and nod. "So," Sam stares at me and rocks on his heels. "Are you going to tell us who you are and why you've been following us, or are we going to have to dig through here?" He holds up my book bag and I hold my breath.

"Yeah, there's a good idea. Dig through there. Not me who's going to have a heart attack."

"What are you talking about?" Dean steps towards me.

"I've been following you and watching you because… you're my father, Dean."

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DUN

DUN

That is all.


	3. Whose Your Mommy?

_Phew! Howdy, there! Sorry it took a while to update! I've been busy, but here you go! Chapter 3 is here, and chapter 4 is underway!_

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Before I could even begin to explain everything, they decided to shove in the backseat of their car with Cas, who was acting like a 3rd grader. But the best part about this entire thing was the fact that I was riding in the back of an Impala! It could be a '67, or maybe even one of the reboots from the 70's, but either way, this car was friggin' _beautiful_. "Hi," Cas looked at me and smiled like a goof. "I'm Castiel."

"I'm Jay. Were you named after the angel, Castiel?"

"Oh no, I−"

"Er, Jay, where are you from exactly?" Sam interrupted him midsentence and it made me suspicious, but I decided to make conversation with my new-found uncle.

"The middle of Kentucky. I took a train and two buses to get down here. I was headed towards Arkansas."

"Why Arkansas?" I hesitate, since following them around was a good idea at first, but I didn't know they _knew_ I was on their tail.

"That was the last place I tracked you guys to, so I was going to head down there. But I didn't realize I was going to run into you guys so early." The conversation ended when we pulled into the parking lot of a motel. Dean is the first one to get out−slamming the door as he goes−and the rest of us follow.

When we get inside, Dean buys a cheap motel room and says his name is something it's not. I shrug it off and they head into room 26. It's not bad, other than the fact it only has two beds and there are four of us, but I guess this is home now. I put my bag on the table and take my coat off, sliding it onto a chair. When I look up, I realize they're all staring at me. I open my mouth to speak, but Dean interrupts me. "Who the hell are you, for _real_?"

"My name is Jaycie Amy Winchester, and I'm your daughter who was given up for adopted 3 days after I was born."

"Really? Then who's your mother?" He's yelling now, and I take a fearful step back as I dig into my pocket for my birth certificate.

"Anna Milton." All of their eyes become _enormous_ as Sam reaches out for the piece of paper in my hand. He studies it and nods, but Dean snatches it out of his hand and does the same thing, but shakes his head. Cas just stands there and studies the carpet like he's hiding something, but looks up at me and smiles when he realizes I'm looking at him. Dean begins to pace around the room and Sam sits down with a smile on his face. "I didn't you and Anna−"

"Shut the hell up, Sam. How is this even possible? How are even _here_? It was only 5 years ago and you're a teenager. What are you? Another demon baby? Shape-shifter? What?"

"I don't know. That's why I came to you. I want answers too."

"It is possible that she's alive, Dean," Castiel speaks out of nowhere and looks between Dean and me. "Right before Anna went back to see your parents, I spoke to her. Her body was deteriorated when she got her grace back, but she said she 'called in a few favors' to get it back. She must have asked to keep the baby and when she gave birth, put it up for adoption and before she could tell you…well, you know the rest. Anna was able to nurture a child, and there is a resemblance between the both of you. It's true, Dean, and we even have proof now." This time, he looks at me when he's done speaking. "Welcome to the family, Jaycie Winchester." And even though my heart pumps gratefully for Castiel, one thing still leaves me dumbfounded.

Where's my mother and was she even _human_?

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_And there you have it, hunters! The identity of Dean Winchester's daughter, and the mother!_


	4. Busted

_Sorry this one took so long, folks! I've been rewatching Supernatural all the way through to freshen up on everything!_  
_Happy reading! :D_

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I grab onto the back of the chair and stare down at the table as I try to piece this entire mess together. Funny thing is though; it makes absolutely _no_ sense at all. I look up at Dean and he catches my eye for a second but looks back down. He clamps his eyes shut with his fingers like he's trying to get rid of a hallucination; the hallucination being me…. "What the hell are you even talking about," I direct the question at Cas and he takes a deep breath, looking at Sam. He glances at me this time and gestures for me to sit next to him. I sit and wait for him to talk, but he keeps staring at Dean. I breathe in heavily and my nostrils flare with anger.

"Can you please stop _fucking_ pacing for a _second_ and come help me with this," Sam and Cas just gape at me, but Dean glares, walking toward me.

"Dean." Sam says his name like a warning

"What, I'm not supposed to be intimidated by her? Or _PISSED_?"

"She's just a kid-"

"Yeah, and the last kid I had tried to kill me, Sam. I'm supposed to be nice to her and have all of this sympathy, and wait till she pulls out a knife so she can carve me?"

"Are you friggin' nuts? What do think I _am_, some kind of monster?" They finally realize that I'm there and Sam turns toward me.

"Well...actually...Jaycie, do you believe in monsters?"

For some stupid reason, I didn't run out of the motel room right then and there. Instead, I was told all about angels and demons−which I already knew were real−and it continued on to Sam telling me all about them being hunters. Not hunters as in like deer and geese. But hunters as in hunting vampires, werewolves, ghosts. Things from horror movies that were all CGI and special effects.

But apparently the script writers never talked to the Winchesters about _their_ experience with this stuff.

And then Sam cut to the chase about why he was telling me all of this. It wasn't because I'm a demon, or a vampire, or a werewolf−because I'm not, hallelujah.

"It's because your mom was an angel, which makes you half-angel like her, and half-hunter like us." Dean wasn't as cold with me as he was at first, but more understanding. By the time they were done putting me in ghoul school, it was around 10. Dean gave me a cup of water and the rest of his burger from the diner since I haven't eaten all day, Sam went on a laptop, and Cas seemed to disappear. Oh−and he wasn't named after the angel like I thought. He _is_ the angel, Castiel. Awesome, right? I look around for my backpack and find Dean going through it.

Even though he's my dad, and he just gave me a truck-load of information about myself…

_No one_ goes through my stuff.

I reach toward him to retrieve it and he holds it away from me, giving me a funny look. Sam sees what's going on and he rolls his eyes. "Come on, Dean," he begins, snatching it from his hands. "What are you, eight?" He hands it towards me and when I grab it, something falls out. Dean already has it in his hand before I even reach for it. The wrinkles in his forehead sink lower and lower towards his eyebrows as he examines it.

"What the hell is this?" He throws it at me and I realize that it's one of my report cards. Instead of it saying Jaycie Winchester though, it says Rosaline A. Duncan.

Son of a bitch.

Sam grabs it from me and his face turns into the same scowl as mine and then I begin to realize that I'm in deeper shit than I was before…..


	5. The Family Tree

_Hey there guys! I'm REALLY, **REALLY** sorry that I haven't updated in while :c Life has caught up with me, so it's been hard to catch up with this. BUT i promise I'll try updating faster!_

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"Dean, come on," Sam, says to him as they both skim through my papers. "Look at this. The report cards, school and medical records−they all say Rosaline Duncan. She's using a fake identity. She's definitely your kid." I stare at the newspaper that was left on the table and act like I'm not paying attention, but I can't help but laugh. Not everyone has 3 names, you know.

"Rosaline? These ones say Amy on it."

"Which ones," he stands and walks to the where Dean and me are sitting, and looks at the papers. "Those are the papers from when Anna first put her up for adoption. But these say that her name is Rosaline Anastasia Duncan−"

"But these say Amy Marie Milton." They both look at me again, but this time not in anger. Sam looks confused and Dean…I don't know what his expression is. Mesmerized? Proud? I can't tell. Who cares? As long as they're not mad at me anymore. I take a breath and pull out my birth certificate, and take the papers from both of them. As I line them up on the table, they come around and stand behind me, waiting for an explanation.

"When Mom put me up for adoption, she apparently told Miss Hurrsleback−my foster mom− that my name was Amy Marie Milton. She wrote it on a piece of paper, went to grab a file, and when she turned back around, Mom was gone. She guessed that she ran out of the room, but now I know she didn't." I say it sarcastically and remember the day I asked Miss Hurrsleback about Mom. She said she was kind, patient, beautiful. But when she asked about whom my dad was, she got jumpy and said she "didn't know". She never gave her a birth certificate either. She came in, gave her my name, and disappeared. I shake away the memory and continue.

"Anyway, about 3 months later, two people walked in the foster home, looking at the kids like they were puppies. 'Oh, look at how cute he is. Aw, she's so little. He looks like you, sweetie!' They walked right on through, passing kids who have been waiting year after year to be adopted and join a family who will love them more than their parents did. But then they saw me. The woman picked me up and the next thing I know, another document is getting signed to change my name to what _they_ want. Rosaline Anastasia Duncan. That's why all of my school records, medical files, and everything else that's been signed doesn't have Amy or Jaycie on it."

"Where's the paper _they_ signed though?"

"I burned it before I left. It was like they branded me to make me their own. They tried to fit me into their perfect little family, but I never really was. They only cared about me up until I was 2−4 or 5, according to my body. February 7th, 2010, Clare and Harry Duncan found out they were going to have twin boys. When they were born, I was still young, but you know what? I realized that they wouldn't care about me anymore. I knew they would love them more than me, all because I'm not blood. They are. So I snuck in Harry's office, stole everything with my name on it, and now they're in our hands." They don't say anything as I gulp down the rest of my glass of water and go sit on the couch to watch TV. I'm not the person who talks about my family stuff, but they're only trying to help. And I can't help but _want_ it.

Dean and Sam still sit at the table, going through the papers as I flip through the channels. I go through every channel and someone flops next to me, but I don't pay attention to who it is. They cough to try and catch my attention, but I ignore them. I just poured my heart out to my father and uncle. I'm not in any goddamn mood to talk to anyone. "You look like your mother, Jaycie," The voice makes me jump, but turn and listen anyway. "You also look like Dean, because of your eyes and hair, but your face and height are identical to hers. She was my sister, so that means I am also your uncle." I can't help but smile, since Cas just appears out of nowhere, and he smiles back at me.

One thing I learned at church was that God was the father of the angels, so the fact that Castiel was an angel and so was my mother makes complete sense that he's my uncle too. We're just one big happy family, and I'm not kidding about that. I know they hunt monsters and help people, but I'm with my _real_ family now. I wouldn't have it any other way, even if they risk their lives day after day. I look back at Dean and Sam who have just cracked open two more beers and I smile

One big happy family.


	6. Nightmares

Dean digs in a duffel bag as two o'clock rolls around and everyone starts to get tired. Apparently Dean was the last one to sleep, so he's already claimed a bed and watches as I try to get ready to sleep.

The only problem is that I only have the clothes on my back to wear.

"Alright, I got this Metallica shirt that you could wear as a nightgown. Sleepin' in jeans ain't too comfy." I smile as he throws me the t-shirt and I grab my bag, heading into the bathroom. I honestly don't trust motels, since they're disgusting and covered in bedbugs, mold, and…_other_ substances. I changed into the shirt and look into the mirror. I pull my toothbrush and toothpaste out of my backpack and set them on the counter. Yeah, I brought my own toothpaste, sorry for being a neat freak. I squeeze some onto my toothbrush and stare at my reflection as I brush.

Castiel said I looked like my mom and he told me she had red hair, green eyes, and was no taller than 5'6". I'm about 5'4", but my eyes, as I've said, are hazel all the way through like my dad's, and my hair is nowhere _near_ a shade of red. I really wish I had a picture of her to at least know what she looked like….I rinse and spit, staring at my hair again in the mirror. Considering it's wind-blown, I braid it to the side as I throw everything into my bag again and walk out.

The first person I see is Sam, his back turned to me, and Dean nursing another beer as he stares at the laptop on the table. I throw my bag next to the other bed and pull the covers back. I climb in and lie on my side, facing Sam. The only sounds in the room I hear are the clicking of the mouse from Dean and faint breathing from Sam. He sleeps with his mouth slightly open and one of his hands is hidden under his pillow, the other near his face. He looks so young, but looking at him so long makes me realize that we have the same nose, with the long nostrils and everything. I smile and realize that I'm touching my nose like a moron and soon enough I drift off to sleep.

But it turns out to be a _horrible_ idea to go to sleep.

I'm running through a dark forest, my feet and lungs screaming for me to stop as I look behind me to see if they're still following me. No one's there, but I know they're still after me. I turn a corner and stop dead in my tracks as they all stare at me. Grim, gray faces with the hideous black eyes that seem to burn through my brain the longer I look into them. They both laugh and look at one another. "I thought we'd never find her," She walks closer and closer to me, my body shaking and feet glued to the ground from the sight of Harry and Clare in front of me. "Running from us and then going to the _Winchesters_….Stupid little _bitch_." She smacks me across the face, hard and fast, and the force knocks to the ground. I hold my face and she grabs my braid, lifting my face up to look at her. As I look up though, the sky isn't there anymore, but it's replaced with a very bright light and a black ceiling. I realize that my head is being held back by some kind of strap across my forehead. More straps like the one on my head are around my wrists, stomach, and ankles so I can't sit up and see anything. "So," I hear Harry talking behind me, along with the pacing of two pairs of feet. "Where are they?"

"Where are who?"

"Your daddy, his brother, and the mental angel. Remember them? Where are they?"

"Why the hell would I tell you that?" I can hear his long sigh along with the clicking of his tongue to make him sound disappointed. I got a feeling that he's no too upset though.

"I guess we're going to have to do this the hard way." He walks into my view and I can see a knife in his hand. He gets closer to me and the icy tip of the knife brushes my forearm. He studies my arm for a moment, moving the blade from the pressure point of my wrist to my shoulder blade for a good five minutes like he's trying to scare the answer out of me. I don't say anything, but soon enough he looks up at me. "I'll ask again," he begins, stopping the knife in the middle of my arm. "_Where are they_?"

"Up your ass, tickling your intestines." Before I can even smile, the blade bites into my skin and he drags it toward my wrist. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming so I don't give him the satisfaction of my pain, but he smiles anyways. Clare walks around the other side with a rag in her hand and Harry hands her the knife. She cleans it, letting out a huff of breath as she stares at me. A smile breaks onto her face and she stops just near my thigh. _Shit_. "I remember last year when we got in that car accident and you had to get surgery to replace tendon in your knee." That's all she says before jamming the knife into me above my knee and I can't help but close my eyes and scream as she cuts around the soft spot in it. Something shakes my shoulder and when I open my eyes again, I'm looking at my dad.

He stares at me, not startled at all as I breathe heavily and sweat to death. "Take it easy, Jaycie," he begins, inching closer to me as I cool off. "It's alright, it was only a dream." I look down at the covers and then close my eyes, attempting to slow my pulse down and breathe right. The last time I had a creepy nightmare like that was when I was 10 and started _seeing_ the gray faces. I guess they're starting up again. "Hey," Dean slides his hand onto my shoulder and I look up at him, his hazel eyes full of concern. "You alright?" I nod, but he doesn't look all too convinced.

"Just a nightmare. I'm okay though, it's fine."

"Could've fooled me by how your body was squirming all over the bed. You know, talking about it takes a huge pile of crap off your shoulders. That's what me and Sam do." He nods toward my uncle and his mouth is still open like it was before I fell asleep. He looks so peaceful. I must've looked like a damn idiot while I was sleeping−thrashing is probably a better word for it, though. I sigh and play with my fingers as I tell him what happened in my dream, beginning to end. He studies my face and when I'm finished, he pushes a loose piece of hair behind my ear and pulls me into a hug. I wrap my arms around him and smile.

The first time my dad has ever hugged me. I'd say this was a milestone in my short life, but why ruin the moment. I turn my head to hug him harder and catch Sam shut his eyes after he realizes I caught him. I smile wider and act like I didn't catch him, but I'm not an idiot (most of the time, anyways). Dean pulls out of the hug, his hands on my shoulders, and he looks at me. "I'd never let anything get you, Jaycie." And he hugs me again.


	7. Bonding

I took some advice from a fellow fanfiction user and i'm currently attempting to make these chapters longer so you can get more out of them! Hope you enjoy, guys! :D

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Dean hands me a glass of water and sits next to me again. "Going back to sleep anytime soon? You only sleep for 4 hours," he shrugs and I shake my head no, putting the glass on the nightstand.

"I usually run on 6, but I slept late yesterday, so 4's enough to get me through the day."

"Alright. I got half a hard-boiled egg left. It's on the counter if you want the rest." He stands up and heads for the laptop again. I stand and stretch, but realize I didn't thank him for talking me through that whole mess.

"Okay. Thanks, D-Dean." I almost call him Dad, but decide not to. This is the first thing he's done that's dad-like and it'd be awkward for me to call him Dad after a day of knowing who he is. Hell, I only called Harry that when I was really young, but I evaded calling him anything _close_ to it when I started getting older. Him and Clare were only parents to Vince and Bobby, so what does it matter? I shake off the thought as I grab the egg off of the counter and sit across from Dean at the table.

He sips at a beer and shuts the laptop, pushing it off to the side. I nibble at the yolk of the egg and he stares at me with a smile. I give him a confused look and he points at the egg, then looks at me. "Sam used to do that too," he steals the whites of the egg and eats it with a laugh. "When we were younger, he hated eggs and when they were sunny-side up or boiled, he'd only eat the yolk of it. He hated crusts on his sandwiches too." I laugh as I continue picking at it and nod.

"The whites taste like soggy rubber bands, and eating the crusts is like licking an ass covered in sandpaper." He laughs and nods.

"You get your sense of humor from me," he blows on his fingers, rubbing them off on his shirt like a dweeb, and then shakes his head. "Nah, I'm just kidding. You get a bit of that from your grandfather, your uncle, _and_ me. Maybe from, uh, your mom too, but she was kind of quiet." He hesitates a bit at the mention of my mom, but covers it up by finishing the sentence and taking a huge chug of his beer.

"Well I'm definitely not quiet. I can be, but that's only around people I don't know."

"She was like that with Sam and me too. But after we cracked her shell open, we found out she was nice, fun, looked on the bright side a lot, and brave too. Since she was an angel, she could see the−what'd you call 'em? –the, uh, gray faces like you can." I nod and think about what they're really called for a minute. Son of a bitch.

I've been seeing demons this entire time.

My pre-school teacher was a gray-face, and so was my neighbor, and that one paper boy that always stared at me like I was an idiot…. I knew that bitch, Tiffany, from next door was something evil. "Demons, right? We can see…demons." I say, but mainly say it to myself so I don't lose my mind at the thought of being taught the alphabet by a black-eyed creature. I didn't even start seeing them till I was around 10, so I had no clue she was a demon until I saw her with Clare and Harry for Vince and Bobby's early registration for school. Seeing Dean nod though knocks me out of my thoughts "You're not as freaked out by it like Anna was though. She saw our friend, Ruby, and _flipped_." He laughed at the memory and my eyes bulge.

"You were _friends_ with one of them?"

"Well she was more of Sam's pet. I didn't like the idea of it either, kid. Neither did Cas, since he saw her for what she was before we did and even warned us not to trust her, but Sam was crazy about her."

"What happened to her?"

"She had this knife that killed demons on the spot when stabbed, so when she betrayed us, I took the knife and jammed it right into her. It was a wonderful day for me. Ha. Good riddance, bitch." He sipped at his beer with a smile on his face and I smile too. Other than learning about my mom and their dead demon friend, I also learned where I get my filthy mouth from. I've found out where I get a lot of me from and most of it is from Dean. My attitude, obnoxious laugh, my dirty mouth−I can't honestly list them all, but I think you get the point.

Dean finishes off his beer and gets up to get another from the fridge. He grabs my glass and fills it with something, then hands it back as he sits across from me again. I stare at the glass and take a sniff, realizing it's iced tea and not alcohol, so I'd drink some. "Another one already?" I question, setting the glass on the table. He stares at me and sets the bottle on the table at the exact same time I do.

"Well you've been though as much as Sam and me have, you need something to keep away your _own_ demons."

"Drinking doesn't get rid of things completely. It only stops your brain's ability to take short term memories and turn them into long term. It actually makes everything worse."

"What is this, a DARE lesson?" He chugs some again, keeping his eyes on me. It turns into a staring contest, but I'm the first to drop my eyes to table. Guess I hit another nerve on him. I guarantee that if I keep it up, my own dad's going to hate me. I really wish Sam were awake. I turn and look at him. His hand has fallen from next to his face to the floor, his mouth still open and soft snores escape his lips. He seems peaceful, but if what Dean said is true, he can't be peaceful in his dreams. The gray faces haunted my dreams up until last year, so can only imagine what's in his right now.

* * *

I check the clock on the microwave and this time it reads 8:47. "Alright," Dean looks at the table in thought as I grin and pick up the paper and pen. "I'm gonna go with H." I nod and write it down, handing him the paper to look at again. He studies it and slaps it down with a very satisfied look on his face.

"Did you figure it out?"

"Yes I did. Now give me the pen," I hand it to him and he scribbles on the paper. "Ha! I win again. I met him, too. He is one annoying son of a bitch." I look at the paper and nod when I see he's written Z A C H A R I A H in the blanks. Playing Hangman with angels and famous demons is actually kinda fun when you play with someone who's met most of the ones I've written. I did get Uriel and Raphael, but Dean also seems to hate them too. I think the only angels he's ever gotten along with were my mom and Castiel. I laugh at him calling another angel a son of a bitch and Sam walks by me, patting my head. "Morning," he says, sleepily, as he heads for the fridge. I turn around to get a good look at him as Dean laughs.

"Good morning to you too, Sleeping Beauty." Dean says, jokingly, considering Sam's hair has matted to one side of his head. I laugh and Sam groans, plopping down next to me.

"This place seriously has no coffee? Ugh," he closes his eyes and folds his hands on the table as I stare at him. "Um, Cas, I'm asking you to please grab some coffee on your way over here−"

"OH, and pizza for lunch!"

"−and some pizza for lunch."

"Did you guys just pray for an angel to bring you coffee and pizza? And it's 9 in the morning and you're asking for _pizza_." I question them, and not even 5 minutes later, Castiel shows up with two large pizzas in one hand and four coffees in the other. I shake my head as Cas puts everything on the table and sits between Sam and me. He smiles and hands me a coffee.

"This is lunch for us. Welcome to the Winchester family, where we drink all morning and have pizza at 9." Dean smiles at me and I can't help but smile back at him "welcoming" me to the family. I don't care if he was just kidding around at my comment; it means a lot to me. After him talking to me about my dream, telling me a little about my family, playing Hangman with me, and now kidding around with me, I _finally_ feel welcomed.

For once in my life, I feel like I _finally_ belong.


	8. The Winchester Way

_After a LOT of thought and reading up on some old Winchester history, I FINALLY finished up some hunter training for Jaycie! Enjoy! :DDD_

* * *

When you've done gymnastics, karate, and played recreational softball, seven days a week for almost your entire life, you'd think this hunting thing would be easy, right?

Let me be the one to tell you, my friend, that you are _completely_ wrong and an idiot for thinking that way.

After 9 AM lunch and a quick look around the town, my uncle and father decide to take me to some beaten-down warehouse on the outskirts of town to teach me the Winchester ways. They were taught self-defense and monster-killing when they were younger than me by their dad, so they want to keep that tradition alive. "Come on, Jaycie," Sam catches my waist and sets me to the ground. "Ten more and we can move on to the weapons." I fix the medical tape on my hands and breathe out, nodding. He counts to three and hoists me up to the rusty metal bar again. I grab tight and pull up, my arms screaming as I try to pull out ten more chin-ups. I manage to do it before my arms fall off, but I release the bar a little too early, resulting in heavy, stinging pains to shoot up my legs.

"Alright, enough PE bullshit. Get over here, you two. I just spent a half hour making and hanging these stupid things, so come and use them." I turn and see five water beds hanging from the ceiling by ropes, all with outlines of human bodies, but I can tell Dean's added his own touch by adding a different monster face to all of them. I smile as I sip from a water bottle and Dean hands me a knife. "That knife is made of silver and given to us by an old friend, so be careful with it. What does it kill," he says, extending an arm toward the five "dummies". I examine all of them and see one has fuzzy ears. I run toward the bed, as if it were real, and jam the knife into the left side where the heart would be. Water comes rushing out and I turn to see whether or not I was right.

"Silver kills a werewolf, good. Next we got a machete and a knife dipped in dead man's blood. Which kills a vampire?" Sam shows both of them to me and I smirk, catching on to his trick question.

"Putting the blood on a knife can be used for long distance," I take the knife from his hand, pull back my arm, and flick it forward to send the knife straight at the bed with the fang-dubbed smiley face on it. "But a machete can be used for a fast and short-distance kill." I grab it with two hands and cut off the top of the bed, sending more water flying around. I pull the knife out of its "chest" and hand the weapons back to Sam.

"Where'd you learn to throw a knife like that?" Dean asks, astonished. I shrug.

"I was a softball catcher for three years. I have a good arm. Anyway, what's next?

"The next one is easy. Take the silver knife again and kill the last easy one." I take it and look between the last three beds. One has devil horns−a demon, obviously−, one with what looks like glowing eyes−I have _no_ idea what that is−, and the last one has the Charlie Brown's version of a ghost drawn on it. I laugh when I see it and decide to stab the middle one in the heart and then pull the knife out, causing water to leak out. "Good. Shape-shifters. They're disgusting, and evil, and you don't grab their arms unless you want a handful of skin." Dean explains with a shudder, and I laugh again. I look at the last two monsters and realize how complicated it must be to kill these things, since stabbing and decapitating is pretty much the generic way to kill anything. I stare between the ghost and the demon, realizing that I have no idea how the hell to kill either, considering a weapon would go right through the ghost and the demon…that's just tricky…. "Ghosts are about a five or six on the killing difficulty rank," begins Dean, grabbing a can of salt as he walks toward me. "We stacked up some wood over there to pose as the bones, so if you would join me, young grasshopper." I laugh and follow him.

"What do we have to do?"

"Normally we dig up the bones of the ghost, cover the remains in a lot of salt and gasoline, and burn the sucker, but you can do that with this wood. Here ya go." He hands me the gas and salt, watching me as I pour everything on top of the "remains". He then hands me a pack of matches and I light one, throwing it on to the pile of wood. It ignites immediately and Sam jogs over with the bottom half of the shape-shifter bed to extinguish the ghost fire. They nod and say I'm "getting the hang of the huntin' life", in the words of my father. I'm almost done, hallelujah, but I still have the goddamn demon to deal with and still I have no clue how to kill it. Just as I huff a frustrated breath at the sight of the demon, Sam hands me a folded up piece of paper and points to it, telling me to "go kill it". He's very helpful, as you can see….

I walk over to it and open up the piece of paper, skimming through it. I stare at the piece of paper, confused, as I try to figure out the nonsense written on the page. I recognize the pentagram at the top, but the writing after wards makes my head spin, so I turn back to them. Dean tosses a piece of chalk and I realize that I have to draw the shape below it. I get to it, drawing the star, circling it, writing the funky shapes inside, and then stepping back to look at my work. "Alright," Dean says, satisfied. "Lookin' good. Now here's the tricky part: the incantation."

"Oh, you mean the gibberish shit right here?" He laughs and snatches it from my hands, standing next to me. He looks at me and starts to say the words, pointing at every one as he speaks. I nod and he hands me the paper when he's finished.

"Your turn, pipsqueak." Dean teases and Sam pats my shoulder, encouragingly. I take a deep breath and begin to say the spell, or hex, or…whatever this is. I stumble across the last few words, but I get it all out and give the paper back to Sam. He and Dean start taking down the remaining waterbeds from the ceiling and heading for a trashcan. I wrap the weapons in the jacket Dean used to get them in here, and head for the Impala. The trunk isn't locked so I open it to throw them in, but someone grabs my wrist. I jump and drop the jacket, knives clattering to the bottom of the trunk. Sam looks at my face and releases me, putting his hand up in surrender, considering I'm the one closest to the knives. "Watch out there, Sammy," I hear Dean's voice and I turn to find him walking toward us. "The kid's one of us now." He pats my shoulder like Sam did and I smile widely. Sam smiles as Dean walks around, leaning next to me against the Impala.

"One of us as in capable of killing monsters, or one of _you_ as in capable of twenty-four-seven drinking without dying?" I start to laugh as Sam grabs the knives and hands some to me to hold.

"Shut up." We both laugh this time as Sam grabs something and pulls up. I watch as the bottom of the trunk opens up, revealing knives, machetes, stakes, brass knuckles, different of salts, and an assortment of so many guns that it makes my head spin. It's dangerous and stupid to keep so many weapons in one place, except I can't help but marvel at how _fucking awesome_ my family is. I smile widely and Sam smiles when he sees my face. He grabs an old knife from the trunk and hands it to me.

"You're not an official member of the family just yet." I stare at him, confused, and he looks up to Dean, who also smiles warmly while laying a hand on my shoulder. Dean leads me toward the back of the car−Sam going around the other way−and I climb in next to him, Dean getting in next to me. He takes my knife and slides it underneath a part of the car, revealing wood with the initials S.W and D.W carved into it. "Did that when we were just little kids," begins Sam, looking up at me.

"No one, not even our own Dad knew about that. We marked up my baby with this like we were puttin' a welcome mat in a new house," Dean rubs the wood where they carved it, looking around the car with a smile, and then looks to me as he puts his arm around me. "But now I'm gonna let my real baby put down her own welcome mat." He pulls me into a hug and I smile so wide that my cheeks begin to hurt. He pulls away and I start to carve J.W into the wood, right below Dean's initials. I've known my dad for almost three days, trained to be a hunter for four and a half hours, and now I'm carving my name into a car. It may sound weird or stupid to other people, but to my dad, this car is his kid, and now his _real_ kid is carving her initials in the same spot her uncle and father marked their territory.

Today's the day I can finally throw away the whole Amy Duncan gag and use my real name.

Today's the day I become an _official_ Winchester.

* * *

_Life has caught up to me a little, so getting a chapter done and on here has taken a little longer than I anticipated :/ so i wholeheartedly apologize for how long you have to wait, guys! Thanks for sticking by me! :D_


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